


Let Her Rest

by LittleSixx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Halloween, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pagan Festivals, Samhain, The Deathly Hallows, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 08:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21223358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSixx/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: Why does Daphne Greengrass keep dying?





	Let Her Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Based off an aesthetic from the Fairest of the Rare group.

Daphne pressed her palms against the dirt.

She dug her fingers in so deep she felt it clump beneath her nails. Her breath was coming up in short, clipped pants that ended with her spitting onto the ground. She lifted her head and saw an imprint where her cheek had rested against the muck. Daphne turned her head to glance upward and all she saw were trees. Leaves mid-transition, the moon high overhead ... She was in the Forbidden Forest, clearly, but how the hell had she gotten there?

Daphne searched her memory and found darkness. The Final Battle raged on, and then ... Nothing. The following moments were a dark haze, and then it hit her all at once.

_ Pain. _

She winced and pressed her cheek back onto the cool dirt. Daphne’s hands balled into fists and her toes curled up inside her trainers. It took a few minutes, but when she opened her eyes again there was hardly enough light to make a difference. She pulled herself into a sitting position and the world began to spin without a fixed point. It took Daphne a full minute to figure out which way was up, and another before she was able to stand on unsteady feet. 

The Forbidden Forest had a unique sound. The slapping of Centaurs’ hooves could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the howl of a Werewolf and the wind teasing the leaves on their branches. Daphne stepped forward and nearly slipped on something she couldn’t see.

Daphne endured the blinding headache thrumming through her skull and how her jaw ached like she had clenched her teeth together too hard for too long. She ignored all of it in favour of moving forward. She took one step with her left foot and tentatively allowed it to touch the ground, toes first. Just as her heel landed, a twig snapped. Daphne jumped up and yelped before covering her mouth with both hands. 

She remained frozen for several seconds. Daphne realized that since she’d woken up all those minutes ago, she had moved less than half a metre. Blinded into fear, she continued to listen to the sounds around her thinking she could at least orient herself enough to find the way out. Some leaves rustled about four trees back, leaving Daphne only one option:

_ Run. _

Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, hand still clapped across her mouth to muffle the screams. Somewhere in there, she prayed whatever was chasing her was just a unicorn, and not something else. Something with a thirst for blood. She kept running and running and running until her right foot became her left foot and she tripped over herself. For the third time, her cheek hit the dirt, but this felt different. Her skin broke open and her glasses landed somewhere in the distance. 

Daphne touched her cheek, but there was no blood on her fingers when she pulled them away. The world started spinning again. Slowly at first, but faster and faster until all she could do was curl her legs into her chest and tug her jumper around them. It was too much. Daphne pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes so hard tears escaped from the corners. She tugged at her hair by the roots, trying to ground herself somehow, some way, bring herself back through the pain.

Then the world froze. It stopped moving and a chill washed over her, so cold her bones felt like ice. She looked up to see a skeleton draped in a black cloak that floated away from its bones, as though whatever force held them to the earth had gone horizontal. 

Perhaps it wasn’t of the earth at all.

Looking up at Death was familiar, calming, like falling into a tub filled with ice because she needed to soothe the pain. Daphne had done this before. It knelt on the ground so they were face-to-skull, then held out one bony hand. 

She should have taken it, but something at the back of her mind caused her to pause. Daphne stood up and turned her back on Death to face the edge of the forest. 

Then everything went black.

**.oOo.**

Daphne spat out a mouthful of dirt and rolled onto her back. 

The leaves were darker around the edges, silhouetted against a black sky dotted with tiny stars. She felt the soil clumped in her hair and groaned. Daphne knew she was in the Forbidden Forest, but how had she gotten there? She searched her memory and it was impossible to find anything to hold onto. The Final Battle raged on like a light show all around her and then ... Nothing. The next moments were a dark haze, and then everything hit at once.

_ Pain. _

The nighttime morphed into a black velvet blanket that cocooned Daphne so tightly she couldn’t move. Her arms were pinned, frozen to her sides. Her body ached like she had run down every staircase in Hogwarts and back up again. For all she could see, Daphne may as well have been in a coffin several metres inside the earth.

“LET ME GO!” Daphne shouted right into the heart of the darkness. She shook her head from side-to-side, trying to shake away the pain. Again, she demanded, “LET ME GO!” 

As if it had only been waiting for her to ask, the night acquiesced. The weak starlight filtered through the forest canopy, welcoming her back to the land of the living. The invisible blanket was lifted and she scrambled up from her place on the forest floor. She ran toward where the trees were thinnest, knowing it would lead out to the castle grounds. One foot in front of the other. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot ... Daphne picked up the pace and finally saw an opening between the trees. 

She ran toward the edge of the forest, losing air as she got closer. The path at her feet led to the light outside and the promised release of the castle grounds. Daphne heaved, but forced her feet to keep moving forward. She slowed to a brisk walk and it felt like she was pushing a full-fledged unicorn with each step. But she had to make it, had to keep pushing, had to ...

_ Stop. _

Silhouetted between two trees at the edge of the forest was Death. Daphne’s heart stopped when she looked up into where its eyes should have been. Not because she was afraid, but because she wasn’t. She felt a chill at the base of her neck which slowly trickled down her spine as Death’s gaze lingered. 

Daphne moved forward, one step away from the promised land. As she picked up her foot, something wrapped around her ankle and pulled. Daphne landed on her face and the copper taste of blood filled her mouth as she bit down on her tongue. She was pulled deeper into the forest by this invisible force, staring up at Death as she clawed her fingers deep into the forest floor. It continued to tug her toward the forest’s depths, but Daphne held onto the ground. It wasn’t until Death began walking toward her that she recognized she should have let herself be taken. Each silent step caused her heart to jump nearly out of her chest as she awaited execution.

Daphne closed her eyes and prayed it was just a nightmare, prayed she would wake up in her bed in the Slytherin dormitory covered in a cold sweat.

Then everything went black.

**.oOo.**

Daphne leapt up the moment she felt the forest floor beneath her.

Without opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and pushed her glasses far up the bridge of her nose. Then, Daphne ran as fast as her legs had ever taken her. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot. She had no care for how loud her footsteps sounded against the forest floor. The danger, as it had always been, was right in front of her. 

The answer to this problem was right outside the Forbidden Forest. She felt it in her bones that all she had to do was walk onto castle grounds and this nightmare would be over. She could rest again. She could live, and all she had to do was outrun Death.

Daphne ran like hell.

Her vision was obscured by the darkness and she rammed her left shoulder into a tree, and it nearly knocked her off her feet but she kept moving forward. Death stood at the forest’s edge with a crow perched atop its right shoulder. Daphne braced herself, with her right hand holding her left shoulder in place, then attempted to run past Death and its pet. One skeletal hand reached out to grab her by the throat and fling her back onto the forest floor.

Daphne winced as the air was knocked out of her lungs and her diaphragm spasmed. The sleeve of her jumper tore when she hit the ground, and Daphne felt blood trickle down from her elbow to drip off the tips of her fingers. She ignored it all as her eyes watered and she pushed herself up, focusing on the starlight filtering in from the outside. The crow flew away, cawing as it disappeared against the inky night sky. Daphne set her stance again and ran toward that opening between the trees, and again, Death grabbed her by the throat. 

It picked her up and held her at eye level, so she was suspended in the air with her feet dangling in a witless tap dance. Daphne clutched at the hand choking her, beat at its wrist with her closed fist, trying desperately to get so much as a toe through to the castle grounds. Death would not allow it.

Tears flowed freely down Daphne’s cheeks as she tried and failed to get purchase against any part of Death. The knobby edges of its fingers tore into her skin, making a series of cuts along her neck. Daphne kicked at its middle, but her foot went straight through. She pulled out of Death’s grasp just enough to croak out,

“I will keep trying.”

**.oOo.**

Draco Malfoy spotted a familiar figure at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. His heart soared, as they’d been looking for her for ages. He ran at her full-tilt and shouted,

“What the bloody hell are you doing out here at night?!”

She didn’t move, just continued to stare into the forest like she was expecting something to happen. Draco made to step around her so they were face-to-face and asked,

“Astoria?”

She made no indication she heard him, but Draco watched as one tear escaped to run down her face. Her hair was pulled back, but falling out of its clasp like she had been tugging at it. Her nose was rubbed raw from the fabric of her sleeve; her eyes were red and puffy with tears just waiting to spill over. Astoria held her fist firmly against the middle of her chest, overtop her heart. She fell forward into Draco’s arms like all the fight had left her. Draco could only lower her onto the grass as she shook her head. He cupped her cheeks with his hands and asked,

“What is wrong?”

Astoria’s shoulders shook as she sobbed into his chest. She croaked out,

“Samhain.”

Draco nodded.

“Yes, we were all looking for you since you missed the feast. One of the best of the year, why would you spend it out here?”

Astoria bundled his shirt up in her free hand and swallowed hard.

“I thought I could get her back.”

Draco narrowed his eyes and asked, “Astoria, what have you done?”

“It’s Samhain.”

Draco had never seen true grief before. Fear, terror, death, those were the Dark Lord’s domain. But there was true anguish written in the lines of Astoria’s face, as though she had no idea how to so much as pick herself up off the ground.

He repeated, “What have you done?”

She sniffled then answered, “The world of the living and the afterlife overlap at Samhain, and ... and ...” Astoria opened her left fist to reveal a small black stone shaped like a diamond with a triangle, circle, and one line etched down the middle. “I thought I could bring her back.”

Temptation was the Dark Lord’s greatest weapon against the vulnerable. Make someone a promise and they will give you anything in return. Temptation had been the ruin of far too many of his friends, and far more members of his family. He’d be damned himself before letting it swallow Astoria. Draco grabbed the stone from her palm before she could react. He leapt to his feet and turned to fling the cursed object back into the forest. 

“NO!”

Astoria made to run after it, but Draco caught her by the waist. She crumpled in his arms and begged,

“Please, Draco, just once more ... I have to try once more ...”

“No, you do not.” Draco tightened his hold on her as she kicked her legs in a desperate bid to free herself. “Daphne died six months ago. Samhain gives you more power against Death, but it also gives Death greater power over you. You have to move on. You have to let her rest.”

“Please, once more ...”

**Author's Note:**

> Story takes place on the Samhain 1998, so the turn from October 31st to November 1st. ❤️ Thank you for reading.


End file.
